How do you say goodbye?

Luckily shalom means both hello and goodbye in Hebrew because it’s a week of both departing and returning. Today we discussed the “reverse culture-shock” that comes with going home, and it finally sunk in that this amazing semester is over. I feel so fortunate to have lived and learned here at Kibbutz Lotan, and as I sorted through my several thousand photos from the past four months in preparation for our closing ceremony I hardly recognized myself from August – I am not the same person that I was in August. Packing my suitcase felt almost silly because the few souvenirs I got are not even close to a reflection of the experiences I’ve had, people I’ve met, and knowledge I’ve gained during the program. While for me this is not a goodbye, more a lehitraot (until we meet again) for Israel, since I’ll be coming back in two weeks, the weight of leaving the Kibbutz is overwhelming.

I won’t be able to describe, or even know where to start explaining the realities of the last four months might be the scariest part of this transition. My memories will stay with me forever, but what are memories if you can’t share them? So...now...I go home and people ask, “How was it?” “What was it like?” “What was your favorite part?” Am I supposed to summarize four months of my life in a few sentences? Forty seconds and then the conversation changes direction? Here are a few of my favorite memories:

• At Qasr a Sir, a bedouin community in near Dimona, we stayed up late into the night hearing booms in the distance, cluelessly loading news sites to figure out what is going on even though we are both literally and metaphorically powerless in the electricity-less village considered “open space” by Israel’s Iron Dome defense system.
• Waking up the first morning, after our late night arrival, and exploring the Bustan neighborhood for the first time in the light.
• Buying 10 cucumbers, 6 tomatoes, 2 onions, 4 red peppers and a pomegranate in the Mahane Yehuda Shuk (Jerusalem) for around 20 shekels ($5 US) and making an epic salad in the apartment every single night for two weeks.

The most important thing I learned this semester is to be present. That doesn’t mean to take everything you’re given and accept it; it means to fully experience every moment. Ask questions. Develop an opinion. Challenge yourself. Learn something new. Be spontaneous, reflect on and value every mistake and every success. 

My War

At breakfast today my friend opened the newspaper and saw a picture of someone she knew standing in front of a tank. The sidebar for every page, she could not escape the disturbing image. While I’ve been trying to keep up with the headlines – 3 Killed in Kiryat Malachi, Woman Wounded in Ashkelon, One Third of Palestinian Casualties are Civilians – this is my experience with the war. Here on Kibbutz Lotan, a tiny and distant place that most Israelis have never even heard of, there is no threat of violence; the “floods” yesterday were more dangerous for us than the war, but that does not mean we aren’t experiencing it. My connection to the operation feels like much more than surreal headlines, as I watch my friends get called for reserve duty in the IDF, recognize their friends in the paper, or even wait in anticipation as they dread their call-to-the-army this fall. 

I spent the last week in a Bedouin village (Qsar aSir, near Dimona, was recently recognized, with a population of almost 4,000). When discussing the plight of this minority – a significant portion of the Negev numbering over 200,000 – one man said to me “Being a Bedouin is not a nationality; it is a way of life.” I asked him what this way of life has meant in the past, and what it means today, and he told me that being a Bedouin means not fearing: not fearing to stay on your land, not fearing to defend your family’s right to security, not fearing to stick-it-out until the end. As we heard booms in the distance and read that one might have landed in Dimona (about a 10 minute drive away), I couldn’t help but think how fearless these people are – sticking it out here, without electricity or even a bomb shelter. Unfortunately, their fear is less about war with Hamas and more about their human rights under the Israeli Government. 

As I continue to consider making Aaliyah – moving to Israel at some point in the next year or two and serving in the IDF – my war is the decision. Do I want to commit to and defend a country that is constantly in conflict with its neighbors? Do I want to live in a country where I see human rights, such as those of the Bedouins, being blatantly ignored? How can I face disturbing headlines every day, and worry about my friends across the country? My gut tells me yes, do it, but I don’t want to make ignorant excuses for this country I love so much – I want to have an informed opinion on “self-defense” and “social justice issues” within the country, and work to make it a more peaceful place.

with the Bedouins

One Minute Warning

I heard the sirens as I left the library, thinking I would go find somewhere to get coffee. On the Ben Gurion University campus in Beer Sheva students started moving briskly towards the stairwell down to the safe room – I was alone, so I followed the traffic without question. It wasn’t scary, almost exciting, as we all crammed into a small basement which was occupied by some religious men praying. The students around me didn’t seem bothered in the slightest, and after two minutes they returned to their daily activities... it didn’t even seem as if anyone was talking about what happened. I heard the missile go off in the air as Israel’s Iron Dome defense system prevented it from hitting the city. However, some students on campus didn’t even know anything happened – one even asked me if it was a drill in the library, because she didn’t hear any sirens.

The night before I stayed with a friend in Beer Sheva. Before going to bed she showed me where the safe room in her house is. If the sirens go off it means we have exactly one minute to get to the safe room. Nothing happened that night, but tonight is a whole different story. Things are escalating in Gaza and rockets are going back and forth from both sides. We are no longer in Beer Sheva, and are totally safe here in the Bedouin village, but calling all our friends and updating the Haaretz news site every few minutes to follow what seems to be a serious situation. It feels very real, for the first time, and the complexity of the situation is so frustrating that I feel helpless. A Hamas leader said on television tonight that “tonight a rain of rockets will fall over Beer Sheva.” I don’t feel any danger will come my way during the program – we have even switched our plans for tomorrow to make sure we are extra safe going back to Lotan, but being here and feeling the heaviness that comes with the rockets really makes me feel connected to Israel. We commented this afternoon on how many airplanes were flying so low over where we are... little did we know that many of them were going to Gaza.

Interesting that our month of “social justice” ends with a real escalation. It feels nice to be returning “home” to Kibbutz Lotan tomorrow. I have learned so much this last month, and tonight makes me recognize that while I know SO MUCH more than I knew before (about the situation in Israel), the more I know the more complicated it becomes. 

Hofesh and Return to the "Real World"

After hitting 4 cities in 4 days on our hofesh (break), it is exciting to be able to call Jerusalem “home” tonight as we return to our apartment in Bet Shmuel. Of course stopping for fresh vegetables from the shuk on the way from the Central Bus Station, we cooked a nice dinner and are taking a much needed break from our vacation – we are all very tired. We’ve been going around to visit various friends from the Green Apprenticeship in their homes around Israel. Friday we took a long bus ride up to Metula, then the next day to Haifa, followed by Tel Aviv and Rishon LeZion. It is really interesting to see the reverse culture shock that comes with leaving the program – while we’re still studying with Living Routes, the GA participants are returning to their lives and it seems very scary.

It’s really a wake up call to witness “normal life” after living in the Bustan for 7 weeks. While many of our friends are starting compost piles and backyard gardens, and finding ways to apply the lessons to their daily routines, it seems like everyone is struggling to adjust. We, too, feel guilty when we flush 10 liters of water down the toilet (instead of our compost toilets). It is hard to re-enter the world when you can recognize how much more wasteful you are than you want to be. However, we have been trying our best in the Jerusalem apartment to continue being resourceful and responsible. We’ve produced several huge bags of compostable food scraps, which we bring to the community gardens where we volunteer, and we’ve actually been doing a great job of not cooking too much food. There are so many simple things that make a difference – like bringing your own bag to buy groceries, and using a rag instead of paper towels. Yet, so much needs to be done on a larger scale in order to live sustainably. 

Unfortunately, neither of our candidates propose truly good environmental policies. It’s hard to accept that the better of the two "clean" energy policies involves increasing oil, coal, and natural gas production. I understand the economic benefits of localizing production of these fuels, but looking long term (although, not that long) the environmental impacts of these are in no way a sustainable or practical solution. I support Obama’s current efforts in increasing solar and other renewable energy sources, but it very much disturbs me that "energy" and "environment" are two completely separate issues to his campaign (as separated on this site)... they are completely related, and looking to solve the problems separately will only create deeper negative effects.

Hike on the Banias River while visiting Hilla in Metula

Harvesting Olives with Rabbis for Human Rights in the West Bank

More Gardening in the German Colony in Jerusalem

Community gardening with the "Garin Dvash" in Jerusalem

Freedom Riding and City Gardening

Now that I’ve finished cleaning the kitchen of our awesome Jerusalem apartment I finally have a minute to catch up on blogging. The last week has gone by incredibly fast, yet it also feels like forever since we were at Lotan. I really love the city – we are in an awesome neighborhood, and I really feel like I’m starting to know my way around. We do our grocery shopping in the shuk, where you can negotiate three giant pomegranates down to about six shekels ($1.50 US). There is a great night life on the streets off-shooting Yafo Street, and Beit Shmuel (where we live) is only a ten minute walk from both the Old City and Ben Yehuda Street. We’ve been keeping very busy between various volunteering projects that are taking us all over the city and beyond.

Every day we work in a different community garden, helping however we can. There is a community called the Garin Dvash (honey scouts) that are people around our age who have chosen to live communally, and they work with different neighborhoods to help gardening and ecology grow in the city. The first garden we went to was beautiful, and we met a few of the people who have plots in it while we were there. The next day, however, we had a much different experience. The Garin have a project in a very low income neighborhood, where they have several small plots of land in front of some apartment buildings. The people of the community haven’t stepped up at all in helping with their garden, and in fact they continue to trash the place by throwing their garbage out the windows of their homes (even after two hours of us picking up trash, we didn’t make a dent). It was frustrating because as we picked up garbage, the people watched us almost as though we were intruding – which we were. It felt very uncomfortable to enter someone’s neighborhood and pick up their trash for them, as if we were making a statement that they should try and be more clean like us. The point of the project is to give them land they can take ownership of and take care of, but if they aren’t wanting to get involved even after six months it makes me feel like why should people continue to go there and help them, or pick up their trash. If anything, they want a garden to be gifted to them, without any help from them required, so I didn’t feel the project was all that fair – why should I pick up someone else’s garbage if they aren’t willing to help?

Another project we are working on is very interesting. In Israel, many public city busses are segregated by the Orthodox Jews, who make the women enter from and sit in the back of the bus. A few years ago many laws were passed to forbid this segregation and discrimination, but there have been various levels of implementation on different routes. We are working with the Israel Religious Action Council as “Freedom Riders” meaning we are assigned various routes to ride busses and document if various regulations have been met, and if we witness any segregation. Last night we took a bus to Haifa, and the girls in my group were asked to go sit in the back. When my friends said no, they didn’t have to, the men were very upset and we could hear them talking about us the entire bus ride. The adventure to Haifa was very fun – we stayed with my friend Jomi in her apartment, went to the beach and swam in the Mediterranean in the morning, and then took several busses for more freedom riding; after taking the wrong bus for one leg, and then missing another bus we were hoping to report on, it was time to head home to Jerusalem. The day was long and stressful, but we got to see a lot of Israel from out the window, and learned about the bus system and various cities we had never been to.

I’m very excited for the next week of volunteering – we have many more fun projects coming up – and then after that is our break...but now it is time to go to bed! 

Human Rights in East Jerusalem

On King David street there is a tattoo shop, and next to it a place where you can get a ham sandwich. Here in Jerusalem’s Old City I can stop for a 10 shekel iced coffee while making my way to the Western Wall. Jewish school children play basketball just below the wall on which hundreds of tourists explore the perimeter of the Old City daily. Jerusalem is a city of pairs (as in Hebrew it ends with the sound for things that come in pairs), this concept being visible in a number of ways: the new and the old, the religious and the secular, heaven and earth, etc. After spending a day in the Old City (and hanging out in the modern areas of West Jerusalem) and spending a day touring East Jerusalem with Rabbis for Human Rights, the contrasts and divisions in the communities of Jerusalem are hard to ignore.

A separation wall has been constructed between East and West Jerusalem. This wall is 8 meters of concrete with barbed wire at the top – nothing beautiful about it. We spent time discussing the purpose of walls in human life. Not only are they meant for protection, and to keep outsiders out, but they serve a more mental purpose as well. Some walls, such as the wall around the Old City, are constructed to be walked on so you can see what is happening on both sides; this is not the case for the separation wall. The barrier between East and West Jerusalem is meant to keep the populations apart. We use walls to define us, and this wall has defined much of Israel as ignorant when it comes to human rights – our guide suggested that almost 80 percent of Israelis today have not been across the wall, or have not bothered to learn about the struggles and human rights violations that it has created. However, the more “concrete” definition created by this wall is the physical boundaries of Israeli West Jerusalem.

The borders to Jerusalem are much in dispute, as they have always been. The “Green Line” is what was supposedly agreed upon in 1949 as Israel’s territory in Jerusalem, however from the time the line was drawn it has continued to build settlements outside of the Green Line to extend Israel’s control of the area. There is another line from 1967 which separates Israeli West Jerusalem from Palestinian East Jerusalem, and then there is the route of the Separation Wall. The wall was constructed disregarding this boundary thus stealing land against international law. Checkpoints, limited access and transportation flow, and other issues create many violations of human rights for the people who are now living outside of the wall. Many cannot come to Jerusalem to work, or even access hospitals without hassle of driving around the city or going through sometimes several checkpoints.

We visited a small town where several neighborhoods were very close together, some Palestinian some Israeli. The Arab/Palestinian side of town was clearly neglected; although its residents were tax-paying citizens within the Jerusalem border, the roads were not taken care of, trash was not collected and taken away, and there was overall mess. Yet, just around the corner where the Israeli neighborhood sat there was clearly new infrastructure, and it looked pleasant and well-treated. It is crazy that the Palestinians are paying taxes (so that they can keep their blue cards and access Jerusalem) but they are not seeing ANY of this money come back in the form of government services. The worst part, however, was that one Palestinian neighborhood in the area is now on the other side of the Separation Wall, which was arbitrarily built in a way that completely isolates these people. They now have no road on which they can drive in and out of their neighborhood, and they must pass through a checkpoint by foot in order to get to their cars and buy groceries. Now that they are no longer considered a part of Jerusalem they receive no government services – they must throw their trash in a pile on the side of the road. They have been separated from their families, who live in the same town just on the other side of the wall, and their standard of living has been completely disregarded.

There are many issues about human rights violations in this city – people being displaced from their homes, inequalities for women, a horribly imbalanced education system, just to name a few categories. I am so thankful to have the opportunity to start volunteering with several human rights organizations in the upcoming weeks. I feel a connection to this country, warts and all, so I feel excited to be a part of working towards solutions.

Time is Flying By

Take the fact that I haven’t posted in over two weeks as a sign that life goes by fast when you’re having fun. Today is Saturday, so things are pretty low key, and I’m giving myself sometime to catch up on work and on thinking. Its a sad day for me here at Lotan – the shorter Green Apprenticeship that was in conjunction with my program has just ended and everyone is heading out – leaving only five of us to continue on for the next 9 weeks. We ended the program yesterday morning with a closing circle that was very special. Everyone contributed a poem or quote that was read aloud, or a song, and we went around the circle reflecting on what we’ve learned and how we hope to apply it. Yes, I have many projects I hope to start when I am at home next fall, but I think the biggest thing we all took away is that this is just the beginning of much more learning to be done.

The last few weeks have been nice because we’ve had four major holidays breaking up the time. We’ve had less classes, but doing less has made it easier to absorb all the information. We started with our big Permaculture Design Projects – we had to come up with ideas for a space in the Kibbutz that could be reinvented using the guidelines of permaculture – earth care, people care, and fair shares/limits to consumption. I designed a new education building that had a classroom, a museum, and an office for the Center for Creative Ecology. It was a lot of work drawing up the plans and organizing the write ups but it went well, and they even said they might use some ideas from my project as they are starting to consider investing in a new education building for the program.

On Yom Kippur I went to services and fasted, and then after breaking the fast at the big feast in the dining hall several of the families on the Kibbutz had little open houses. A few friends and I went around to them all, and it was really fun to get to know even more of the community, which I’m now starting to feel more a part of. On Sukkot the whole Kibbutz ate under a giant sukkah (for every meal for the entire 8 days) which was very exciting. I took my day off from classes on Sukkot to go to the Dead Sea with two of my friends – we got up at 5:00 in the morning and made it to Ein Gedi, a nature reserve at the Dead Sea, at about 8:00 and went for a 3 hour hike over the mountain, stopping at a few natural springs and pools along the way. We then went and sat by the Dead Sea for a while, hot and sweaty, and decided not to go in because we were all pretty cut up. We went to Masada but since we were too tired to walk across the parking lot we decided not to waste our time heading up the mountain – I’ll go there again when I have enough energy to enjoy it. It took us a lot longer than expected but eventually we made it home and crashed for the night.

I’ve done so much over the last few weeks that I won’t even try to write it all but a few highlights – I lead services with my friend last night on the guitar camp style and the Kibbutz members really liked it, we made home-made felafel in the bustan for a potluck and even though it took 2 hours to grind all the chickpeas (we didn’t have a food processor) it was amazing! I want to make it all the time (as long as I can find a grinder). I am so excited for Jerusalem – we leave Tuesday morning and will be there for 3 weeks volunteering for several different social justice nonprofits. After that we’ll be spending a week living with a Beduoin tribe near Beer Sheva!